Rest Your Weary Head
by magically-muddled
Summary: Emma knew she was fighting a losing battle against sleep - Hook and rum certainly weren't helping [set post 3x05]


Hi!

This is my first ever attempt at turning my hand to OUAT, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated! Just a silly little drabble I thought of, set after 3x05.

...

_It had been a long day._

In fact, that was an understatement of the highest order. They were in Neverland, on a quest to find her son and steal him away from Peter Pan._ Peter-freaking-Pan_. She needed to sleep for an eternity to get her head around _that_ one, but right now she was fighting it. Sleep led to lying in the dark, her jumbled thoughts coming to front and that was something she was desperately trying to avoid. It didn't help that her limbs were heavy from the day's hike, that her eyes stung from the desperate desire to close them, or that the cool Neverland air was prompting her to shift further into her makeshift bed.

Emma rubbed the flat stone harder against the blade in her hands, knowing full well it was as sharp as it needed to be. However, the action had the dual benefit of pulling her from the clutches of sleep and letting her feel she was at least preparing for this fight.

"Easy love, or there won't be any blade left"

Of course _he_ was awake. Her eyes flickered to the rest of the camp, keen to see if anyone else was conscious. The three forms dotted around them were all sleeping soundly, readying themselves for the battle. She considered clanging her sword against something, so that they were no longer alone. _What was she, twelve?_ But she was mulling it over, so apparently she was. Hell, she'd prefer to make idle chit-chat with Regina than have to face him. Since the kiss, she'd managed to avoid his searching gaze, his longing looks and eventually his satisfied smirk.

He sat on his makeshift bed, his back resting against the trunk of the tree that acted as his canopy. It just happened to be exactly opposite from Emma's own bunk. _What a super coincidence._

"Can't sleep?" Hook questioned gently, his blue gaze trained on her.

"Won't sleep. Someone has to keep watch" Emma muttered, her hand pausing against the sword, mentally reproaching herself for answering him. Talking led to questions, questions led to more talking and they both knew where that last ended up...

"I believe Davey selected me for that job"

"Davey?" Emma spluttered, completely devoid of her inherited Princess grace, "When did you two become such friends?"

"Magical quests tend to _bond_" Hook smirked, putting too much emphasis on 'bond' with his wonderfully silky accent. _Damn him._

"You really saved his life?" Emma questioned for what felt like the millionth time. It just seemed too surreal - Hook, the villain of the story had saved her father's life. It would be so much easier if her life was clear cut. Well, it'd be easier if her life _wasn't_ a fairytale, but if it at least followed the Disney version, things would be simpler.

"Aye, I did"

There was more than a hint of sadness in his voice. Emma's eyes flickered to his, tensing at the melancholy of the statement, but he quickly looked away. It reminded her of all the times she had snapped her head away, avoiding his longing looks and intimate words, afraid he would read her exactly like he had claimed he could easily do.

"We'll need him for tomorrow" Hook deflected quickly.

Emma nodded dumbly. Tomorrow. The designated day that they were to save Neal and ensure they had a way home for when Henry was free of Pan's clutches.

The day she would see the man she thought was dead again, "I'll need my Dad for that"

She had whispered the words so silently, she wasn't sure he would have heard them. They had caught in the wind, floated across and hit Hook square in the heart given the way his face softened.

"It'll be okay... he's alive. Isn't that the best thing?"

It should be. The moment Hook had told them that Pan had appeared and promised he had Neal, she should of rejoiced that he was alive. Of course, at that moment she had been facing in the opposite direction, keen to avoid Hook, their kiss still lingering on her lips.

"Pan informed me that Neal lives."

Neal lives.

_Neal lives._

No, no he didn't. Not her Neal. Not the Neal Cassidy who stole the little yellow bug, who showed the world, taught her how to be a master thief and promised her Neverland.

Her version of Neal had died the moment she had entered those prison gates.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the gentle swirling of rum, as Hook waved his ever trusty flask at her, "It'll cure what ails you"

Her head was shaking 'no' before she knew what she was doing. Hook smiled knowingly, beckoning her closer with his head. She repeated the motion as his movements became more pronounced, his head in serious danger of falling off given his over-the-top antics, both of them laughing at the other.

"This really is your solution to everything" Emma relented, leaving the comfort of her bunk and skipping over to Hook's, the cool Neverland air chilling her. She wrapped his blanket around her shoulders, nuzzling into the warm fabric.

"I am a one handed pirate with a drinking problem" Hook replied bitterly, watching as she drained the warm spicy liquid.

"No, you're not"

She didn't seem to need to provide any more comfort that those three little words as his face brightened, the darkness evaporating like the sun breaking through a particularly dark cloud. She smiled, finishing off his proffered drink and tucking the flask into the blankets at his side. She used to wince at the burning liquid, but now she actually quite liked it. The treacly taste clung to her mouth, and her mind immediately flew back to their kiss. He had tasted of rum, of salt and sea and _sin_.

Leaning against the smooth bark next to him, her arm rested against his, and she longed to both move away and lean closer. It was hypnotic - the pull, the draw towards him. It should have ended with that kiss. It was _supposed_ to end with the kiss. He was magnetic and it felt she was powerless against him drawing her in.

"Still worried about tomorrow?"

His question had broken her out of the stupor she had fallen into, as she fought weakly against sleeps clutches. The combination of the heat of the drink and the heat of Hook was making the battle against the night impossible.

"Mmm hmm" Emma nodded, stifling a yawn as her head drifted to the side again, resting against something that was firm and just the right height for a makeshift pillow.

"Sweet dreams, Princess"

"I'm not sleeping" Emma objected, refusing to open her heavy eyelids, "I'm just resting my eyes"

His shoulders shook with silent laughter as she pressed her face flat against him, breathing his scent in. Emma brought her pillow closer just as she did every night in Storybrooke, her small arms wrapping around his bicep, anchoring it in place for the night. She hadn't been this close to him since the kiss, and now she found herself longing to be closer, to never let him go.

Before she could even process _that_ thought, she fell into a deep dreamless sleep. The scent of rum, spice and the sea helped her to drift off, as a chaste kiss was gently pressed against her temple.

...


End file.
